


Tears' pianist

by BilingualShipper



Category: Servamp (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Boys' Love, How Do I Tag, Kinda AU, M/M, My First Fanfic, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, POV Lawless, Romance, Translation, but it's almost like canon, translating is not as easy as i thought i'd be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 19:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10170191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BilingualShipper/pseuds/BilingualShipper
Summary: A long existence needed a lot of drastic changes to avoid monotony. Lawless had gotten used to discard anyone who made him bored. How was he going to expect someone would enthrall him in such a way, the next drastic change would be a desire to be by their side for a lifetime?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Pianista de lágrimas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8448367) by [BilingualShipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BilingualShipper/pseuds/BilingualShipper). 



> Translating was harder than I expected! I'm so used to do translations from English to Spanish, but backwards is not so easy, ugh. I hope it is good enough, even though I think there are a few mistakes and a lot of commas. Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: Servamp belongs to Tanaka Strike, not to me.

I’ve never met someone as interesting as him. To me, a being who feels like it’s lived way too much, getting bored of people is very usual. They could enthrall me for a time, but monotony attacks so fast, initial fascination vanishes as dreams after waking up.

Only another time I fell crazily in love, but her ideals ended up erasing every single hint of her existence. Since that day where nothing I could do to save her from her own dreams, I thought I’d never find an equivalent replacement. Life became eternal beside so many people with nothing funny to offer me, nothing surprising to excite me, nothing innovating to make me want to stay by their side.

I became a man who’d destroy anyone disappointing me. I wished I could find someone to protect as myself, though it seemed like no one was worth the risk. Everyone drowned in their fantasies, ending up isolated from reality, condemning themselves to fall into a nothingness they refused to accept.

After years of involving myself with defective love substitutes despite knowing how it was going to end, a melody as any other caught my long-neglected attention. It was a weird feeling. The crowd was drowning in bitter tears that nothing had to do with the so light-hearted performance enthralling me to the point of admiring it on my feet. 

A young man pressed white and black keys as if they were a part of his own body with such graceful gestures and naturalness; they left his prodigious self in evidence. His hair, black like the piano’s structure with a curious white mole at the end of his bangs, did nothing but strengthen the idea of the instrument being a complement to his shape.

During the whole concert I felt different from the others; it was as if I were in a completely opposite event. Besides me, no one else smiled; that music made them cry, that music made me happy. At the recital’s end, applauses covered sobs, but nothing stood out more than my happiness-filled cheers.

I decided it: I had to know this guy. I had to know someone capable of transmitting two contrasting emotions with just one song. I had to know the guy who teletransported me to the world of cheery melodies that no one else had reached. I had never been interested enough in a person to don’t mind the drastic changes I’d be forced to do to get closer to them.

I acted on our first encounter. To catch his attention I had to be sweet, sweet I was. His first impression of me was positive, just like I wanted and even more. I discovered little animals were adorable to him and he had the kindness to rescue them from the streets. My impression of him won a lot of green points, his heart was kind.

His second impression of me altered the initial one. The calmness and delicacy he showed in my presence disappeared as my peculiarities shone; he was ruder now. Fine, maybe I had it deserved for pretending before, so I came to the conclusion that he didn’t like upsetting situations and my stomach received his leg’s strength with no cushions. His attitude was something not anyone would want to provoke, but I was attracted to his attack power.

No one rejected me as much as him, no one did I chase as him. My admiration kept intact no matter the times he ordered me to shut up or to get out of his sight. My new goal was making him feel half of what I felt for him. Someway I’d transform his insults into sweet nothings.

I started to call him Angel-chan because his funniest facet was the one where his superiority complex made him consider himself purifying, and because wings seemed to obsess him. It served him right. His legs’ force made his jumps be flights, as if his lack of wings was compensated with that ability. In a short time, my first right move was calling him that way, it was the only thing that didn’t bother him and I’d dare to say he was fascinated by that adulation.

His concerts were always the same: the crowd lived a tragedy, I got lost in emotion that was only mine. Many times I realized that people were glaring at me, sometimes it was like the scenery’s light was over me. I wouldn’t mind being the focus if it meant Lichtan would fixate on me. It was my wish, after all.

One of my biggest dreams came true when he invited me to be the first one to listen to his new composition. Not only was I happy for spending time alone with Lichtan, him calling me for something so exclusive was very important to me.

The piece, once more, was a happy one to me. He glanced at me from time to time as he played, as if wanting to check my reaction, although his focused expression never changed; it kept being the same I called “submerged in feelings’ profundity”.

With the song’s end, his eyes tried to examine me. I applauded cheery as always.

“Amazing, Lichtan!” I congratulated on my feet.

He looked at me quietly, his left hand still on the keys and his face untouched. “Is it happy to you?” he asked, serious.

“Just like all your songs!” He half-closed his eyes slightly. “What’s going on, Angel-chan? It was supposed to be the song that finally made me sad and that’s why you’re upset by me being so cheerful?” I ruffled his hair.

“Get off me!” Instead of pushing my hand away with his like anyone else would do, he kicked me to make me stay far from him. “Like hell I’d compose a song especially for you, shit-rat.”

“That’s what you say but you inviting me to be the first one to listen to this song tells otherwise. It’s like you’re dedicating it to me, Angel-chan!” I smiled with all my teeth.

“Shut up, shit-rat!” He was about to kick me again but I caught his foot before it damaged me. “Didn’t you feel a little sadness in it?”

“Not even for a second.”

Lichtan turned his gaze back to the piano, softly caressing the white keys with his left hand. He pressed a few, freeing random notes on his way.

“What are you thinking about?”

His hand stopped. Without looking at my face he replied, “You’re the only one who can tell the happiness in my songs.”

“That’s nothing new, Lichtan! Even I noticed it!”

“Shut up.” Normally, I wouldn’t have heeded him, but that time there was something different in his voice that stole my vocal chords’ function.

I adjusted my glasses with my eyes a little more open, expecting. I was unable to adopt other state. Was there something special in being that one person? Some important background?

“My songs are famous for releasing all the negativity of those listening to them to the point of bereaved crying. You, however, rejoice in them. I have no complaints about transmitting bitter emotions, but I never composed a song with that on mind.”

“Aren’t you supposed to compose to transmit emotions?”

“Only a shit-rat would interrupt an angel,” he mumbled with half-closed eyes and a frown. “I compose to transmit more than one emotion at once, to make everyone interpret the notes their own way and even change them in any moment; but only you have felt different.”

“Why do you think it happens?”

“Maybe you don’t have as much hardship as others.” He shrugged.

“Aw, I thought I was special for you, Angel-chan.” I hugged him from behind.

“Don’t think so highly of yourself, shit-rat!” The position made him unable to kick me, so the struggling was longer. He had no choice but to tickle me to escape.

“Talking seriously, Lichtan, couldn’t it be just for being me?”

“There isn’t an argument as stupid as ‘I’m me’.”

“I doubt I’m the one with less hardship out there. Before knowing you my life was very heavy, I should’ve cried when I listened to you for the first time.”

Lichtan widened his eyes before turning to see the wall and clicking his tongue. “Don’t you start with your romance,” he murmured.

“I noticed surprise in you, Lichtan, don’t hide it~,” I sang. He just grumbled. “Is there any song you wrote while thinking ‘this one’ll be sadder’?”

“I composed a few while feeling one way or another to vent and spread those feelings. They’re still sad to anyone else, though.”

“Play your most depressing song. If my throat isn’t numb after that, then I must have something special.”

“You surely are a psychopath trash. I was very anguished when I improvised this for the first time; I hope you feel desperation for once in your life.” He took a deep breath, positioned his hands over the first chords and began to play.

It had a slow rhythm, notes barely high; they relaxed me to the point of making me sit when I didn’t even remember being on my feet. Was it supposed to upset me? I closed my eyes; I’d focus more than ever on his music.

I swung to the paced rhythm of the piano, then a novelty surged. I could hear the keys being played going more and more to the right, and if I compared, his hands’ movements were faster. I confirmed it when I noticed my faster swinging. Something was about to change in the song.

Some strident chords shook me and forced me to open my eyes. Lichtan’s fringe didn’t let me detail his face. His fingers were accelerating. I parted my lips; something was starting to pierce me. There was a moment in which the melody seemed to go easy but it was a trap: it exploded right after that.

I squeezed my eyes shut because of the frenetic notes. I could feel it, any other person would be crying of anguish in that instant, but I submerged into a different fantasy.

I pictured Lichtan in his mother’s country pulling at his hair, fresh teeth gnashing; feet kicking so hard, only three times were enough to push all the covers off the bed. His father wouldn’t see more than a childish tantrum which actually was the detonation of all the saved stress caused by many expectations on him just for the fact of being a prodigy kid.

The speed in which he played repetitive keys matched the legs on my mind. Was I projecting an actual scene in my head? Was it the angst he was talking about? If that was the case, the tear I spilled would have sense.

Towards the composition’s climax I perceived a wave of wishes as the initial rhythm came back. I looked up and stayed still as I imagined the former kid full of adult emotions turning into a young boy who flew with angel wings while eating sweets. I almost laughed but I kept it inside for my ribs sake and to let him finish peacefully.

At the end, Lichtan was unable to look at me in the eye for several seconds. My applauses were like the song: they sped up as time passed by, but for the first time I didn’t talk nor cheer.

“You’re way too quiet,” he pointed out in a mumble; his gaze still fixated on the instrument.

“Was that what you felt, Lichtan?” I couldn’t help my numbed voice.

He turned towards me just as he heard me, his thin eyebrows arched. “Are you…?”

“Don’t get excited, Lichtan. I’m so happy.” I let out a crooked smile. It’s not easy to smile beautifully when your tears are falling.

“Don’t lie!”

“I’m serious. I’m so glad you shared a deep part of you with me.” I had to take off my glasses to wipe my tears.

“Idiot, do you think…?”

“I’m crying of happiness! I’m finally crying!”

“But you still don’t feel the bitterness everyone else does!”

“Lichtan.” I put my glasses back on so I had free hands to rest on his shoulders. He didn’t try to push me. “I was able to see you. I saw the angst you went through; I understood everything you wanted to express with that song. Why do you think I’m so happy? It’s not because of what you lived, but because I’m closer to you now.” And I finally smiled as it should be done and with little eyes.

“You’re saying you saw me?” I nodded. “Not your own feeling?” I shook my head this time. “That’s also the first time I hear something like that.”

“Could it be that I’m actually special?” I hummed.

“Don’t daydream that much, stupid rat.” He pushed me softly. 

I giggled, that tiny blush on his cheeks betrayed him. “Sooner or later you’ll accept me as your special one, Angel-chan~.” I got close to him slowly. “For now I think I can do this without you kicking me straight to Antarctica.”

“What nonsense are you talking about, shi…?” My left hand on his hip shut him up before my right hand that cupped his face and before my lips trapped his still open mouth.

There was a jolt, then he was petrified for a few seconds. When I caressed his jaw he reacted with stuttered moves which made the kiss funnier. Though I wanted to explore with my tongue, I cut short the contact so I was not exposed to the risk of him hitting the ground first.

I gave a smile to his frown. I was satisfied in so many ways.

“I’ll make you cry of sadness with my piano, I swear!”

“If we keep going like this, I think you’ll be chained to me forever, Lichtan.” I hugged him over the shoulders. “It’s not like I’m complaining.” I winked.

“My life will always smell like rat, then.”

With just a movement I squished him in a true hug. “You accepted me!” I shrieked.

“What?! No!”

“I’ll be with you for a lifetime, that’s what you said!”

“Keep on dreaming, stupid rat!” And he kicked me until my back crashed with the piano, releasing a not so pleasurable sound and a tremendous pain. “There! My piano is about to make you cry in pain.”

“That doesn’t count!”

Indeed, I’d never get bored of him, not when he’d work on composing for me especially, not when I’d be expecting that achievement. And even if the day in which I’d drown in sorrow with his music arrived, I’d make sure to make him fall in love with me before it happened; then he wouldn’t be capable of getting rid of me, just as I was already unable to get rid of him.


End file.
